


Strawberry Fields

by thegreatwall0fsam



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Forgivness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-descriptive Infidelity, angst with happy ending, artist!Jensen, bff!chris, collegeboy!jared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatwall0fsam/pseuds/thegreatwall0fsam
Summary: Jared makes Jensen's heart bleed.





	Strawberry Fields

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jenny Lynne (jenny_lynne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_lynne/gifts).



> I know this may not be what you asked for, I very much hope that you still enjoy it. I was very highly inspired from this [this](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v651/ephemeral_blue/?action=view&current=acrosstheuniverse5.png) image from the movie Across the Universe.

The sun shines through the two mammoth skylights in soft beams. In the morning the loft is washed over in a heavenly hue, art work scattered around; there's a Picasso-esque piece resting on the shoulder of a Dali-like creation. A paint splattered easel is erected in the center of the room, sprinkled with blue and purple and reds and greens. Coffee's brewing and the faint sound of running water can be heard in the quiet upper West Side apartment.

The shower is all glass walls and fogs up against the heat of the spray. There's soft golden skin that manages to peek between the patches of steam, and to Jensen it's probably one of the best things about his mornings.

"Jensen! Jensen, can you look for my Psych book?" Jared's loud cry above the roar of the water can only slightly be heard, but Jensen's so close he hears it perfectly and sets his cup of coffee down to go in search for the missing text. "I was reading it but then you started taking my clothes off and I kinda got distracted." There is a sweet boyish embarrassment to Jared's voice.

Jensen smiles to himself as he heads straight for the living room, recalling said event quite vividly in his mind.

The shower stops and a wet sound echoes through the room, Jensen looks and a flash of white flags his attention across the room.

"Did you find it? Because I really need it for today," Jared keeps talking while he wraps a fluffy white towel around his very slender waist; on his way to the bedroom he skips past a couple strewn paint brushes and hops over an empty canvas that must have fallen the night before while they'd been rushing to the bed.

"I have an idea where it is. Get dressed and I'll take care of it," Jensen insures and leans over, pulling the cushions from the couch, there's a tip of a sea-foam green textbook and he sets it free from under the middle cushion. "Found it," he calls and heads on towards Jared to hand him his loyal findings.

Jared's skin is still fairly damp and Jensen really fights himself to not lean over and lick the fleeing drops from his back. "It was in the couch cushions," he sets the book on the bed and takes a seat watching Jared get dressed. He does it every morning, watches Jared, the sweet gold of his skin; it almost makes him sad that society forces people to wear clothes; Jared is most beautiful like this, free of all sorts of bindings.

"You watch me get dressed every morning," Jared says as he tosses the towel aside and counts the seconds it takes Jensen to reach over and wrap it around his neck. The day before it was five, the week before that seven; it looks like five will be the lucky number for the day. Jared reaches for his boxers and slides them on. "Doesn't it get tiring?" Jared asks because for as long as he can remember, Jensen always takes a seat on the bed, always reaches for the damp towel and always watches.

Jensen has a small smile on his lips, "I never get tired of looking at you," he says very lovingly it makes Jared's chest hurt. "What kind of question is that anyway?" he inquires as he hands Jared his t-shirt.

Jared grins and sits on the bed to put on his shoes. "It's funny," he says and ties his right sneaker, "not that I mind," he adds and stands up straightening his shirt, his eyes scanning the room for his book bag.

Jensen reaches over the bed and pulls it out for him. "I think you're beautiful," he hands it over to him. Jared's grin is ridiculously happy as he reaches for the bag. "If you want me to stop, I will," he adds tightening the grip on the leather strap.

Jared laughs and it sounds like bells from heaven. "No," he tugs the bag free and slings it over his shoulder. "I love feeling your eyes on me," he breathes and before he leaves he grabs Jensen's arm and pulls him in, crashing his lips over his, drinking in the morning. Jared's mouth tastes like toothpaste and sweetness.

"You'll be late," he whispers over his mouth, the tip of his tongue tracing Jared's bottom lip.

Jared groans and deepens the kiss before pulling away with a satisfied grin, his eyes glazed over and sparkling in the morning glow. "I'll see you tonight," he kisses him one more time, grabs his book and Jensen watches him leave.

 

At the paint supply store Jensen picks up non-toxic markers, three new brushes and yellow paint. He's setting his latest creation against the wall when the door opens and he turns curiously to see Jared walk in, balancing two grocery bags in his arms. His keys dangle from his mouth and he closes the door with his foot.

Jensen watches him walk gracefully towards the kitchen and appreciates the curve of his biceps, he wipes his paint stained hands on his apron and walks over to help him.

"The damn elevator is broken again," he grumbles as he starts unpacking the bags and he sounds out of breath. "I'm really glad we live on the 4th floor," he adds resentfully and Jensen laughs. When he kisses him, he tastes like strawberries.

 

I love you. He covers the red marker and sets it aside, Jared reads upside down and when Jensen sees him lift his head, he feels a thump in his chest where his heart beats, fast and full. He smiles, the kind that makes his knees weak, that strangles his heart so much sometimes he worries it will rupture.

He watches quietly as Jared grabs the same red marker and shudders when he feels the cool tip of moist felt run along his warm skin. He watches through lowered lashes as Jared draws a heart on his chest, doesn't say anything when he grabs the blue marker and holds his breath as he writes his name in the middle.

Jensen reaches out and presses his hand to his cheek, his skin like silk beneath his fingers. He never sees him with old eyes, everyday Jared changes, every day he discovers something more beautiful, every day a new smile, a new trace of happiness. He changes every day and as he smiles for him, Jensen feels like it's the first time.

"Kiss me," Jared whispers intimately, fire in his eyes, desire laced intricately around his words.

 

It's dark outside, the wind dancing around them lazily; the stars seem to be glowing particularly brighter. In one hand Jensen holds the bag of supplies and in the other he holds Jared's fingers.

"That was a good movie," Jared says as they wait on an abandoned corner for the streetlight to turn green, the artificial light above casts an ethereal glow around him and he looks like an angel. "Didn't much care for the girl though," he mutters and Jensen laughs.

"Only because she got to make out with the hot guy," he jokes as they start walking back towards their apartment.

"You're hot," he responds and leans in briefly to kiss his neck. Jensen feels his affection from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, like a burst of tingles attacking his nerves.

 

He thinks Jared is cheating on him the night they celebrate their 3 year anniversary. When he comes home his hair is tousled with finger marks that no wind could make. He runs to the shower, barely noticing Jensen as he finishes up on the dinner he's been preparing for the last two hours.

He looks vaguely guilty when he pulls up behind him and wraps his solid arms around his waist, breathing him in. "Sorry I'm late," he murmurs hotly against his neck and Jensen shivers against his pressed body.

"It's okay," he smiles and turns his head to capture Jared's mouth with his. "You're forgiven," he grins and pushes him away so he can take the final plate to the table. "You didn't eat did you?" he asks and comes back with an ice bucket, chilled champagne and two glasses.

Jensen catches the quick shift of his attention and the thoughtful intake of his breath. There's guilt in his eyes again and Jensen tries to ignore the strong tug at his heartstrings.

"A few hours ago, but that's ok, I'm hungry again," he finally smiles and pulls out his seat.

They're surrounded in romantic candlelight and after a barely touched meal litters the table they're tangled on the couch watching the video of their vacation in Venice Jensen had made for a gift.

"I wish we could go back," Jared says softly against Jensen's shoulder, wrapping his arm tighter around his waist. "Just the two of us," he says and kisses the soft plane of his neck.

Jared smells like honey and sandalwood and Jensen can see his beautiful profile, the images from the video dancing in his eyes. He runs his fingers through his damp hair and outlines his ear, pressing gently as they sweep along his jaw line. "That sounds good," he hums and leans down to kiss him. Jared keeps watching the video and Jensen keeps watching Jared.

His finger plays with the shell of his ear, tugging at his ear lob. When he folds the soft skin over, he notices a faint mark right below his earlobe. He presses a finger to it but Jared doesn't stir and Jensen turns back to the screen where he can see a wild Jared waving to him from the top of a bridge, his face broken in a beautiful smile.

Jensen's stomach swoops uncomfortably, but when Jared's fingers seek out Jensen's he smiles sadly when they fold together.

 

Jensen wants to tell Chris about the thing his brain his trying hard not to ruminate on. Chris has never really been the biggest fan of Jared. Thought Jensen was crazy for getting involved with a college kid. 

He never really thought it go anywhere, Jared was like a refreshing breeze, fun and easy going to his more emotional, introverted temperament. Jared's smile was the hook that caught him; his heart was what made him fall in love.

Jensen watches Chris talk to Alan and Steve, smiles around the lip of his beer bottle at their banter and scans the room for Jared, who's playing pinball on a vintage Kiss machine. He's laughing and flushed from drinking. Jensen feels his shoulders tense, his chest tighten.

It's better he not say anything, not when he's not sure. 

"You listening to anything we've been saying?"

Chris buts in and Jensen snaps his attention back and drinks for his palm warm beer. "No," he answers truthfully, "you know I never listen to you," and Chris laughs. 

 

A week later when Jensen is looking for a paintbrush he thought he saw roll under the bed he finds a pair of Jared's jeans and a t-shirt right beside his missing brush. He sits on the bed with a small smile at Jared's carelessness and brings the shirt to his nose to breathe in his scent, to remember him. But it doesn't smell like Jared and Jensen pulls it away instantly, eyeing it carefully. It's the shirt he bought him a few days ago.

He sets it down and tries not to shake as he grabs the worn jeans. His hands search the pockets, they feel a little too frantic and when his fingers brush along a ball of paper his heart stops.

Jensen uncurls it and reads the unfamiliar handwriting through the wrinkles. 

_I can't stop thinking of you._

He thinks he's going crazy as he scavenges though the apartment, searching for more, searching for anything. He finds a shirt stuffed into the couch, at the bottom of the hamper, and more stashed in the darkest corner of the closet.

They all smell the same and none of them like Jared.

The room is torn apart, in irrational shambles and he tries to control the steady pulse of his racing heart as he stands at the foot of the bed, looking at them lined up, feeling sick. His heart unravels as he reads more wrinkled balls of betrayal.

_I love your smile. Meet me at the coffee shop after class. Your kisses taste like strawberries. I think I'm falling in love with you._

 

He doesn't say anything about the shirts or the notes but Jensen watches Jared closely. He notices Jared comes home later a little later now, sometimes 15 minutes, sometimes 25 minutes and he doesn't really mind that, but when it starts to go longer than an hour his heart wilts a little more.

Jared also starts washing his own clothes; when he leaves Jensen wants to stop him and beg him not to go but he does and he always comes home with a different shirt on.

 

Chris knows something is wrong. He's leaning over the table, pool cue between his fingers. "If you tell me what's wrong, we can figure it out and you can stop sulking."

Jensen huffs and scratches at his growing beard; Jared loves it, spends a few moments every morning in bed scraping his bitten fingertips through it as they lazily make out. "I'm not sulking."

Chris snorts and takes his shot, red ball, corner pocket; it sinks in and he fist pumps as he looks for his next shot. "Is it Jared?" Chris gets right to the point, leaning on his cue as he eyes the table. Doesn't even bother to look up at Jensen. Best friends don't have too. "Do I need to kick his ass?"

Chris would too, its something Jensen has always admired about the loyalty between them. No question, all Jensen has to do is say go. "No," he feels his phone vibrate against his thigh. 

_"When are you coming home? I need to touch you."_

Jensen breathes in deep to cover the shudder that runs entirely through him. _Be home soon,_ he response and walks toward Chris. "Hey-"

Chris smirks and leans against the table. "You know, you really suck sometimes," Chris reaches for his beer bottle and takes a long drink. "How does he always know when I'm winning?"

Jensen laughs and hands Chris the cue. "Next time, we'll start where we left off," he offers him the most sincerest of smiles; reserved for only the people he loves. "I'm sorry."

Chris nods and gives him a little salute. "Don't be sorry," Chris tells him and reaches out to give him a rough, best friend hug. As Jensen pulls away, Chris's hand clamps around his bicep, "I know you, I know you better than him. The day I stop, is the day I go after him, you understand?"

Jensen feels like a punch to his stomach. He nods. "Yeah, I know."

 

"How about I skip school tomorrow and you and me spend some time together?" Jared whispers, running his fingers down his side in tickled strokes.

Jensen smiles and adores the way the moon illuminates his eyes in a mysterious sparkle. "I'd like that," he says happily and closes his eyes to kiss him. It's soft and sensual, Jared's tongue slides smoothly through his lips and Jensen moans into his mouth as he rolls Jared on his back.

"I love you," Jensen whispers protectively into his ear as his hand slides down his stomach.

Jared gasps beautifully when Jensen's hand wraps around the heat between his legs, "I love you too," he groans truthfully and grasps the sheets in anticipation.

 

Jensen has a meeting downtown with the art director of the new museum when he realizes he's passing Jared's university, a fleeting consideration to find him passes with the wind.

He stops at the red light and glances down at his phone. It blinks red to alert him he has a message. I love you, it reads and Jensen smiles as he looks up in time to see the green light.

At the next red light he calls Jared and it's almost as if he can hear the familiar ring tone in the air as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel in beat with his Pearl Jam ring back. As the song ends and his voicemail is ready to pick up Jensen turns his head and in an indescribable moment of heart stopping hurt, it feels like the world is crumbling violently around him. Jared stands in the distance, his long body leaning invitingly against a pole and beside him is another man, handsome and smiling adoringly. In Jared's hand is his phone.

The loud eruption of an impatient car horn behind him startles him back to consciousness.

 

 _I saw you today_ ; he writes in dark black ink on his stomach and wishes his eyes weren't getting emotional, but his chest hurts and his heart feels like it will stop beating at any moment.

Jared is the love his life.

Jared reads it curiously and when he doesn't say anything Jensen rolls off the bed and walks to the kitchen. Jared watches silently as Jensen passes a mirror and looks at his refection, it’s a canvas of childish doodles; pink and purple flowers, his shoulder rains blue tear drops, his stomach a forest of green and brown trees and a chorus of hearts dance down his left arm. The innocent utopia marks his body in deep contradiction of the pain drawn elegantly across his face.

He grabs a bottle of water, one for him and one for Jared before sliding back into the room. Jared lies over colorfully marked bed sheets, his body a canvas of intricate designs, a yellow sun around his nipple, an ocean of stars tattooed along his neck and the first bar of happy birthday written gracefully across his right shoulder in perfect notes. His arm is draped over his eyes and he's breathing through his mouth. Jensen drinks in the vulnerable body in front of him, from the splay of his chestnut hair, the soft curve of his neck, the strong lines of his chest, his naked legs to the tips of his toes.

He's breathtaking, even when Jensen's heart is breaking.

The bed sinks and Jared doesn't move, his chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

"How long?" Jensen pierces the silence brokenly and grabs a green marker poking from under Jared's back. He removes the cap and presses it against Jared's bicep. He paints a wilting four-leaf clover over his muscle.

Jensen listens as he swallows deeply and when he speaks it's filled with sorrow and apology, "I don't know," he answers and still won't look at him, hiding behind his arm, hiding his eyes that will confess his secrets.

Jensen takes a black marker and begins to swirl it along Jared's side, starts tiny until it almost curls around his stomach. Jared seems to steel himself, not one word out of his mouth; their breathing so loud it breaks Jensen's heart even more. He reaches for the darkest red and paints a crack. "How long?" he asks again and places the cap on the red marker before taking a drink of his cold water. He wants it to sooth the painful burning along his chest; drown the dread that's percolating in his stomach.

Jared takes a moment; Jensen doesn't know if it's because he's trying to ease the pain or if it's been so long he can't remember thinking back. "A couple months," he finally answers and finally removes his arm from his face. His eyes are closed and Jensen wants to run his fingers along the soft brush of his lashes. "I'm sorry," he whispers and it crushes Jensen's heart.

He doesn't know how long he's felt this kind of pain, the kind that makes you want to scream as it burns and licks at your insides. He just knows it's paralyzing.

 

"I'm sorry."

Jared won't stop saying it. He keeps saying it over and over and over again.

"I'm sorry."

All Jensen wants is for him to stop saying it.

"I'm sorry."

He doesn't believe him.

"I'm sorry."

 

When he's gone Jensen paints. The apartment is his art gallery; splattered hearts, dead souls and broken tears violate the canvas in bleeding reams of color. An unrepentant devastation lingers heavily in the air.

He cleanses his heart with every stroke of the brush, his tears burned against his skin.

In his bed he sleeps on Jared's side and presses his pillow against his heart. He dreams of Jared every night, they never say anything to each other but Jared smiles and Jensen cries.

 

Chris doesn't say anything cruel. He doesn't tell him he was stupid. He doesn't kick him down lower.

Instead he brings him greasy food he knows Jensen hates and won't eat, but he knows the company will be appreciated. He buys him the expensive alcohol, so it doesn't burn when it goes down. 

Chris makes sure to keep the lights off when they hang out so no one else can see him cry.

"I'm sorry," Chris grabs him by the hand and holds it, hasn't done that since they were kids. "I'll kick his ass tomorrow."

His laugh is wet and painful.

He believes him.

 

It's been 6 months and his heart still beats unsteadily in his chest. He can't cry anymore and he's finally changed the sheets, taking Jared's warmth and smell away. His friends try to take him out but he prefers to stay at home and paint. The complete unraveling of life and love inspires him more than anything's ever done.

He sits on the floor and turns on the television, pulling the box of invitations over his lap. He has a gallery exhibit in a week and there are so many people to invite.

He saves the last invitation for Jared.

 

There are people applauding him as he stands shyly surrounded by his family and friends. He smiles and laughs with his guests and hugs his mother as she wipes tears from her eyes, telling him how proud she is. His dad shakes his hand and does his best to keep the proud sheen from his eyes.

Through his smile Jensen can't help the trickling sorrow that snakes around his chest, his heart, his mind. He wants to share his success with one person; it's because of him he's here. He names it Metamorphosis. It's a collection of his exposed heart, bright and beautiful in the beginning that slowly fades into sorrow and death.

It's when he's walking around a dark corner that he sees him. No one else is around and Jensen feels rooted to the ground while his eyes drink in every inch of him. He's handsome in a black suit, one hand in his pocket, the other pressed against the dull painting in front of him. It is the last piece of the collection, the manifestation of his dying soul. The Death Bed, he names it and it's painted in deep strokes of ruthless ebony.

"Don't do it," Jensen hears his best friend speak softly and Jensen tears his strained eyes to him. "I know you think it's a good idea, but it's not," Chris places a comforting hand over his shoulder and squeezes reassuring.

Jensen smiles sadly and turns around getting one last look at Jared, he's pressing his forehead against the artwork and it sends an unforgiving wave of sadness that drowns his heart.

"You're right," he turns away and it feels like the hardest thing in the world he's ever done as he walks away.

 

Jensen picks up strawberries at the store and holds them in his hand as he walks home. He hasn't been able to sleep since the art show and the only thing he can think about is his latest work of art. He lights candles and the flames flicker around the soft breeze from the open window. Jensen sighs and looks up at the blank canvas, it's empty, the way he feels. He feels so empty now.

He reaches down and picks up a pin and strawberry. With gentle reverence he pierces the red flesh and it almost feels like his heart can feel the agony and he watches the cold ruby juice slide gracefully down the white backdrop. He does it again and again until there are rows of bleeding hearts crying and dripping to the floor, with each a painful prick to his chest.

His heart bleeds and there's nothing there to catch it.

Jensen grabs another, listens to the sickening pop of wounded skin and hears the lock release at the door. He grabs another strawberry as the door opens and pushes the pin in.

Jensen can see his shadow creeping ominously above the crown molding but he continues, releasing a little more hurt with each stab of a pin. Feeling his final catharsis as the blood red juice drips achingly slow, mixing with the previous lines of pain. It's gotten easier and the pain weakens.

He hesitates before grabbing another one but his hand is strong and steady as he presses it to the canvas.

"You have to forgive me," Jared says softly behind him but Jensen doesn't turn around because he needs to finish, his heart and the painful and devastating emotion that has consumed him is laced intricately with the piece of art in front of him. "Jensen, you have to forgive me," he begs and there are tears and heartache in his voice.

Jensen closes his eyes and bows his head for a moment before he grabs another strawberry. He feels him move closer, he stands directly behind him and he feels the searing heat of his body snaking around his skin.

Jared smells dirty and heartsick and wonderful.

"Please, Jensen," he breaths painfully slow and he touches him.

"Don't touch me," Jensen says as he moves away and grabs for another strawberry, shoving the pin in, deep and excruciatingly, it almost splits.

Jared steps back. "I'm sorry," he says and Jensen has come to hate those words. He said them over and over again. Jensen thinks he no longer believes in those words anymore. "I miss you," he says instead and the devastating ache that sews itself around Jensen's heart understands that he means it because he misses him too. He misses him so much it's hard to breathe; it's hard to wake up in the morning. He misses him so much he wonders if he'll ever be happy again.

"You broke my heart," Jensen finally speaks as he doesn't look at him, but grabs another strawberry. It's almost done. "You broke my heart, Jared," he repeats and presses the pin in the center of the heart shaped strawberry.

"I know," he says quietly, "but I love you," and the words sound so true it frightens Jensen. "You have to forgive me," he pleads again as Jensen picks up the last strawberry.

He holds it carefully in his fingers and looks at it. He forgave Jared a long time ago, one day when he woke up with tears in his eyes. He forgave him with every new piece of art he produced, art that embraced his pain, his heartache, art that absolved the wounded soul creating it. He forgave Jared a long time ago even when the pain was almost too hard to endure.

Jensen takes the last pin and fastens the last piece of fruit to complete the final line of his cathartic masterpiece.

He stands back to look at it clearly and when he sees his pain so unashamedly exposed he feels a deep prickle behind his eyes.

"It's beautiful," Jared says behind him and Jensen finally turns around and sees him for the first time since the art show. His usual proud shoulders are deflated, his hair is dirty, there are stains on his shirt and his face is swollen, eyes raw and cheeks stained with slick tracks. Jensen hasn't seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"I saw you at the art show," Jensen faces him but doesn't move closer and doesn't touch him. Jared nods sadly.

"I couldn't miss it," he admits and wipes at his face, sniffing quietly. "It was incredible," he finishes and his eyes are the saddest he's ever seen, weighed so heavily with regret. "I didn't see you."

"You look terrible," Jensen says and sighs.

"You look amazing," Jared gazes longingly into his eyes and Jensen can see his fingers twitching, wanting to reach out and touch him but he takes a step back because he's not ready. He sees the disappoint wash over Jared's lips.

They stand there, romantic licks of candle flames dance along the walls and Jensen runs his hands through his hair before clasping them tightly behind his neck.

He is still so in love with him and it scares the hell out of him.

"You have to earn my trust again," Jensen finally speaks, quiet but strong and he watches as the very breath is stolen from Jared's chest as he crumbles over and presses his hands on his knees as he tries to breath, but he's crying and Jensen starts to feel the cool sensation of his heart trying to heal. When Jared stands up straight, tears slide beautifully down his cheek. Jensen doesn't make him wait any longer as he rushes to him and crushes his body so tight he wishes they would melt together to form one healing being. 

Jared arms are so tight around his waist; his face buried in his neck and Jensen holds him. "Thank you," he whispers against Jensen's heated skin, "thank you. Thank youthankyouthankyou."

His tears feel like redemption.

 

Jensen's friends think he's crazy when he tells them he's back with Jared but Jensen knows they only want him to be happy and despite it all, Jared makes him happier than he could ever imagine for himself. Jared is the reason he wants to wake up in the morning, he's the cause of his pain and anger, his anguish but he loves him and he knows, without a doubt Jared loves him too.

 

Jared keeps close at the bar, Chris and Steve are playing their normal weekly gig and Jensen knows he's still nervous hanging around them. He's got every right to be.

Jensen isn't the only one who’s trust Jared needs to win back; they're a tougher crowd.

"You're having a terrible time," Jensen lifts his face up into Jared's space with a grin. Jared's eyes tear from the stage and look down at him, he still gets lost in them. "You don't have to stay, they only have one set left. I'll just-"

"You're here," Jared leans in and cuts him off with a press of his mouth, warm and gentle against Jensen's lips, stealing the air from his lungs. "So I want to be here," he promises.

Jensen feels himself blush as he looks away and catches Steve looking in his direction. Steve stopped glaring at Jensen a month ago when he didn't let Steve's intimidation bother him. Jensen takes a closer step into Jared's space, intoxicated with his scent. "Can I buy you a drink then?"

The joyful eruption of Jared's laugh sends chills down to his toes. 

 

Jared calls him now all the time, to tell him where he's at, when he gets to school, when his classes end. When he comes home he cooks Jensen dinner and washes his hair, massages his feet and cleans his paintbrushes.

"I just need to trust you," Jensen tells him one night they're lying in bed, his paint pallet between them.

"I know," Jared nods with a loud swallow.

"You don't have to prove that you love me," He draws a mustache over Jared's upper lip and laughs.

Even with the silly mustache he's ridiculously handsome and his eyes sparkle, an intoxicating universe Jensen will never get tried of falling into. "I know," he says again and dips his finger tips into different colors and slowly runs them across Jensen's chest, leaving behind a beautiful rainbow. "But I want to," Jared grins and Jensen sweeps his paint marked fingers along Jared's cheek, claws at his hair and draws Jared's face so close he can feel his heavy breath brush over his lips.

"I never stopped loving you," he whispers intimately and gazes into Jared's teary eyes.

"I prayed that you wouldn't," a single tear escapes the corner of his eye, past the yellow stars Jensen painted. "I love-" Jensen swallows the remaining words as he presses his mouth over his lips and kisses him as if tasting him for first time. His lips move reverently against Jared's mouth, his tongue tender as it moves gently against his.

Jared groans and shifts, his hand sliding along the pallet slathered in paint and Jensen laughs when he feels a wet sticky hand slide along his face to pull him closer.

Jared still tastes like strawberries.


End file.
